Achille C. Varzi

Human cognitive acts are directed towards objects extended in space of a wide range of different types. What follows is a new proposal for bringing order into this typological clutter. The theory of spatially extended objects should make room not only for the objects of physics but also for objects at higher levels, including the objects of geography and of related disciplines. It should leave room for different types of boundaries, including both the bona fide boundaries which we find in the physical world and the fiat (or human-demarcation-induced) boundaries with which much of geography has to deal. Two distinct axiomatic theories of boundaries are accordingly presented, and the need for both is examined in some detail. The resultant dual framework is shown to have application above all for our understanding of issues involving contact, division, and separation, issues which have posed serious difficulties for the ontological theories of boundaries that have been proposed hitherto.

There is a basic distinction, in the realm of spatial boundaries, between bona fide boundaries on the one hand, and fiat boundaries on the other. The former are just the physical boundaries of old. The latter are exemplified especially by boundaries induced through human demarcation, for example in the geographic domain. The classical problems connected with the notions of adjacency, contact, separation and division can be resolved in an intuitive way by recognizing this two-sorted ontology of boundaries. Bona fide boundaries yield a notion of contact that is effectively modeled by classical topology; the analogue of contact involving fiat boundaries calls, however, for a different account, based on the intuition that fiat boundaries do not support the open/closed distinction on which classical topology is based. In the presence of this two-sorted ontology it then transpires that mereotopology—topology erected on a mereological basis—is more than a trivial formal variant of classical point-set topology.

Dear Harriet Monroe:—Your recent issue of Poetry is quite interesting. The first poem of that young Italian chap is very good, the rest—unsuccessful. You are certainly the clearinghouse for a lot of mediocre stuff—so you should be: very democratic—keep up the good work. Yours,Williams This is William Carlos Williams writing to the editor of Poetry magazine on March 12, 1918.1 We know who the young Italian chap is: Emanuel Carnevali, age twenty, who had just made his debut in Monroe’s magazine with a six-page group of poems, “The Splendid Commonplace.”2 Less clear, perhaps, is what Williams means by “the rest” —the “unsuccessful,” “mediocre stuff.” “The Splendid Commonplace” consists of six...

Classical propositional logic can be characterized, indirectly, by means of a complementary formal system whose theorems are exactly those formulas that are not classical tautologies, i.e., contradictions and truth-functional contingencies. Since a formula is contingent if and only if its negation is also contingent, the system in question is paraconsistent. Hence classical propositional logic itself admits of a paraconsistent characterization, albeit “in the negative”. More generally, any decidable logic with a syntactically incomplete proof theory allows for a paraconsistent characterization of its set of theorems. This, we note, has important bearing on the very nature of paraconsistency as standardly characterized.

Much recent work aimed at extending model-theoretic semantics has been formulated in response to specific needs, and little effort has been made in the direction of a truly "general" generalization. This work is an attempt to overcome these limitations. The unifying view is that semantics must account for the main relationships between languages and models in a uniform fashion, regardless of the specific conditions that may be imposed upon either notion. And the upshot is a general framework within which a large variety of semantic theories naturally fall and from which the semantics of a wide class of logics can be obtained as special cases. ;The presentation is organized in two parts. In the first, a suitably general notion of a language is introduced along with a correspondingly general notion of a model, allowing for the possibility that the interpretation of some expressions be incomplete or inconsistent. The notion of a valuation is then systematically characterized by exploiting the idea that the value of an expression on a given model is always a function of the values it takes on the various ways of filling in the gaps and/or weeding out the gluts in the model. This account is shown to be grounded on some fundamental properties of the lattice of all admissible models, and may be viewed as a generalization of the method of super-valuations. ;The second part investigates the major properties of the resulting semantic apparatus. In particular, it is shown that the notion of logical validity as applied to single expressions is rather standard, and in fact reduces to the corresponding classical notion when this is available. Thus, gaps and gluts can be explained away as local phenomena that do not metastasize throughout the framework. However, with regard to the more comprehensive relation of entailment between expressions, the general picture is more intricate, as the notion of argument validity appears to escape the control of recursively specifiable systems. To shed light on this picture, a cost-benefit analysis of the proposed framework is offered in the concluding part

We are used to regarding actions and other events, such as Brutus’ stabbing of Caesar or the sinking of the Titanic, as occupying intervals of some underlying linearly ordered temporal dimension. This attitude is so natural and compelling that one is tempted to disregard the obvious difference between time periods and actual happenings in favor of the former: events become mere “intervals cum description”.1 On the other hand, in ordinary circumstances the point of talking about time is to talk about what actually happens or might happen at some time or another. We talk about ‘now’ and ‘then’ in an effort to put some order in our description of what goes on. And since different events seem to overlap in so many different ways, a full account of their temporal relations seems to run afoul of a reductionist strategy. This raises two philosophical questions. The first is whether we can actually go beyond time, as it were, i.e., whether we can take events as bona fide entities and deal with them directly, just as we can deal with spatial entities such as physical bodies or masses without confining ourselves to their spatial representations. This is a controversial issue (though probably not as controversial as it used to be), and ties in with a number of unsettled problems concerning, e.g., the structure of causality or the definition of adequate identity and individuation criteria for events. 2 The second question is whether we can perhaps do without time, i.e., whether we can dispense with time points or intervals as an independent ontological category and focus only on actual or potential happenings, in opposition to the form of reductionism mentioned above—in short, whether we can account for the temporal dimension in terms of suitable relations among events. This is also a highly controversial issue, and relates to the classical dispute concerning relational vs. absolutist conceptions of (space and) time.3 It is this second question that we intend to focus on here..

The theory according to which most ordinary objects are mere “entia successiva”—sequences of distinct mereological aggregates, whose unity resides exclusively in our minds—is a variant of the standard, three-dimensional conception of objects. For the aggregates are, at bottom, endurants, i.e., entities that persist through time by being fully present at any time at which they exist. In this paper I compare this theory with the so-called “stage view”, according to which ordinary objects—indeed, all objects—are sequences of momentary entities that cannot truly be said to persist through time. Both theories face a number of intuitive difficulties but the stage view, I argue, has a lot more to offer in return.

La metafisica è quel ramo della filosofia che ha come oggetto la realtà considerata nei suoi aspetti più fondamentali e generali. L’origine del termine (letteralmente: ‘dopo’ o ‘oltre la fisica’) risale agli editori delle opere di Aristotele nel I secolo a.C., che lo usarono per classificare gli scritti dedicati a quest’argomento e ritenuti, appunto, posteriori a quelli dedicati alla fisica. L’essere si dice in molti modi, scriveva Aristotele in quelle pagine, e a questa molteplicità di significati corrispondono domini d’interesse specifici. La matematica, per esempio, si occupa dell’essere sotto il profilo quantitativo, la fisica sotto il profilo naturale. La metafisica (che Aristotele chiamava ‘sapienza’ o ‘filosofia prima’) si occupa invece dell’essere nel suo complesso, considerato sotto il profilo generalissimo della sua esistenza: l’essere in quanto essere.

La filosofia non è una scienza empirica e si regge in buona misura sull’argomenta- zione (→), cioè sulla capacità di giustificare certe affermazioni, o tesi, sulla base di altre ritenute vere. Sin dall’antichità la teoria dell’argomentazione ha pertanto occupato una posizione di rilievo nella ricerca filosofica, e già a partire da Aristotele ha contribuito a definire quel settore disciplinare che oggi chiamiamo logica (dalla parola greca logos, che significa tra l’altro ‘discorso’, ‘ragionamento’). Aristotele stesso codificò la materia in maniera sistematica, secondo schemi e principi che rimasero insuperati per oltre due millenni (→ sillogistica). A partire dal XIX secolo la teoria logica subì però mutamenti profondi, grazie soprattutto all’opera del matematico inglese George Boole e del filosofo tedesco Gottlob Frege, e nel XX secolo si è assistito a sviluppi straordinari che hanno portato all’applicazione della logica non solo in filosofia ma anche in altri ambiti di ricerca (dalla linguistica al diritto sino all’informatica).

This is a revised and extended version of the formal theory of holes outlined in the Appendix to the book "Holes and Other Superficialities". The first part summarizes the basic framework (ontology, mereology, topology, morphology). The second part emphasizes its relevance to spatial reasoning and to the semantics of spatial prepositions in natural language. In particular, I discuss the semantics of ‘in’ and provide an account of such fallacious arguments as “There is a hole in the sheet. The sheet is in the drawer. Ergo *there is a hole in the drawer”.

Ci imbattiamo in un confine ogni volta che pensiamo a un’entità demarcata rispetto a ciò che la circonda. C’è un confine (una superficie) che delimita l’interno di una sfera dal suo esterno; c’è un confine (una frontiera) che separa il Maryland dalla Pennsylvania. Talvolta la collocazione esatta di un confine non è chiara o è in qualche modo controversa (come quando si cerchi di tracciare i limiti del monte Everest, o il confine del nostro corpo). Talaltra il confine non corrisponde a una discontinuità fisica o a una differenziazione qualitativa (come nel caso dei confini del Wyoming, o della demarcazione tra la metà superiore e la metà inferiore di una sfera omogenea). Ma, che sia netto o confuso, naturale o artificiale, sembra esservi per ogni oggetto un confine che lo separa dal resto del mondo. Anche gli eventi hanno confini, quantomeno confini temporali. Le nostre vite sono delimitate dalle nostre nascite e morti; una partita di calcio comincia alle quindici in punto e termina col fischio finale dell’arbitro alle sedici e quarantacinque. E a volte si dice che anche le entità astratte, come i concetti o gli insiemi, hanno dei propri confini. Se tutto questo parlare di confini abbia davvero un senso, e se rifletta la struttura del mondo o solo l’attività organizzatrice del nostro intelletto, è però oggetto di profonda controversia filosofica.

Some philosophers have argued that the vagueness exhibited by names and descriptions such as ‘Mount Everest’, ‘Downtown Manhattan’, or ‘that cloud in the sky’ is ultimately ontological: they are vague because they refer to vague objects, objects with fuzzy boundaries. I take the opposite stand and argue for the view that all vagueness is semantic. There is no such thing as a vague mountain. Rather, there are many things where we conceive the mountain to be, each with its precise boundary, and when we say ‘Everest’ we are just being vague as to which thing we are referring to. This paper defends this view against some plausible objections.

The paper investigates the link between the theory of modal occurrents (where individuals are allowed to stretch across possible worlds) and Lewis’s counterpart theory (where all individuals are world-bound but have counterparts in other worlds). First I show how to interpret modal talk extensionally within the theory of modal occurrents. Then I show that the assumption that worlds be pairwise discrete is all that is needed to reconstruct the bulk of counterpart theory (i.e., to define the concept of a counterpart and to derive the standard postulates governing that concept) in terms of the theory of modal occurrents. Finally, I argue that this reconstruction allows us to view the indeterminacy of our modal intuitions as being part and parcel with the indeterminacy of our criteria for individuating modal occurrents, and that this indeterminacy is naturally explained in terms of linguistic (as opposed to ontic) vagueness.

Mereological atomism is the thesis that everything is ultimately composed of atomic parts, i.e., parts lacking proper parts. Standardly, this thesis is characterized by an axiom that says, more simply, that everything has atomic parts. Anthony Shiver has argued that this characterization is satisfied by models that are not atomistic, and is therefore inadequate. I argue that Shiver’s conclusion can and ought to be resisted, for the models in question are atomistic in the intended sense, and even though the standard characterization does not say that everything is composed of atoms, it implies so. If there is a sense in which the relevant models are problematic, it lies elsewhere.

Analyses, in the simplest form assertions that aim to capture an intimate link between two concepts, are viewed since Russell's theory of definite descriptions as analyzing descriptions. Analysis therefore has to obey the laws governing definitions including some form of a Substitutivity Principle (SP). Once (SP) is accepted the road to the paradox of analysis is open. Popular reactions to the paradox involve the fundamental assumption (SV) that sentences differing only in containing an analysandum resp. an analysans express the same proposition, because analysandum and analysans are the same entity. Following suggestions of Gupta and Belnap it is argued that (SV) should be rejected.

Assuming that events form a genuine ontological category, shall we say that a good inventory of the world ought to include “negative” events—failures, omissions, things that didn’t happen—along with positive ones? I argue that we shouldn’t. Talk of non-occurring events is like talk of non-existing objects and should not be taken at face value. We often speak as though there were such things, but deep down we want our words to be interpreted in such a way as to avoid serious ontological commitment.

Fictionalism in ontology is a mixed bag. Here I focus on three main variants—which I label after the names of Pascal, Berkeley, and Hume—and consider their relative strengths and weaknesses. The first variant is just a version of the epistemic Wager, applied across the board. The second variant builds instead on the fact that ordinary language is not ontologically transparent; we speak with the vulgar, but deep down we think with the learned. Finally, on the Humean variant it’s the structure of the ontological inventory, not its content, that may turn out to involve fictional elements. That is, for the Humean the fiction lies, not in the reality of common-sense ontology, but in the laws—of unity, identity, causation, etc.—in terms of which we articulate our experience of that reality. In the end, this is the kind of fictionalism that I find most interesting, sensible, and tenable. And I argue that it is even compatible with the sort of “naive” realism we have all come to appreciate in the work of Paolo Bozzi, to whom the paper is dedicated.